nervously, but to Olly it just sounds like I’m laughing at him. He shimmies into his work trousers and sits on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tightly together.
“ I don't get it. Is this cold feet, Natalie? Are you trying to cause a row because you’re getting cold feet? Because I - ”
“ It’s not cold feet, ” I plead, my mouth moving, though I don’t ask it to. “ I promise. I don’t know what’s going on. I honestly didn’t realise what I was saying. Oh God. Please forget I said that stuff. Olly. I love you. ”
“ Sure, only you wish I was better in the sack? ”
Say. No.
Say NO, Natalie. Just one word, two letters. It’s easy. It's the easiest word ever. I mean, I've said no plenty of times before. Like when Auntie Jan asked if I minded picking her up some Imodium from the chemist – No! Or when the fellow who works at the cake shop asked if I wanted the small chocolate éclair rather than the large one – No! No!
I raise my tongue towards the roof of my mouth and form the word, while sending an angry message to my brain to please, for the love of God, please, please, please do what I say.
But my brain ignores me.
“ YES! ”
I put my head in my hands, and just to make the whole thing worse I bleat :
“ Maybe it’s a stamina thing. There are things we can do to fix it. ”
Shut UP, Natalie.
Olly stands from the bed and glares at me.
“ Stamina? ”
“ Yes. ”
“ Stamina? ”
“ Yes. ”
“ STAMINA? I have plenty of stamina, thank you very much. I’m the king of stamina. Just look at me. ” He gestures to his toned arms and stomach. “ I’m the very model of stamina. If there were a national contest for stamina I would come first. ”
We pause for a few seconds as the unfortunately worded end of that last sentence sinks in. Olly's face is now the colour of a plum. A vein pulsates in his forehead.
“ Jesus , Natalie, ” he croaks, running a hand through his hair. “ Any other little nuggets of information to share with me? You know. Just to top off your festival of cruelty. ”
My eyes well up. My heart jolts at the realisation that I will not be able to stop what next comes out of my mouth.
“ You have horrible taste in music. That perfume you get me for every birthday and Christmas makes me want to puke. I give it to the charity shop and tell you that I’ve used it all. When you drop me off for work I secretly go to a café and eat thick Hobbs toast full of butter. I don't like that you're so short. Can't we buy you some stacked heels? And… ”
Stop this. Stop this!
“ … your cooking is truly awful. It doesn’t even have a smell! ”
Olly gasps as if I’ve just sucker punched him, which let’s face it, I may as well have done.
I begin to cry. What the hell is happening? Have I got a brain tumour? Am I a latent schizophrenic? Oh God, poor Olly. He doesn’t deserve this! I am a horrible person.
I can only stare and blink as he angrily shoves on his suit, tying the tie extra tightly. He checks his hair in the mirror before turning to me.
“ I knew you were eating behind my back. I knew that. You must have been because you haven’t lost any weight for the wedding. ” He sighs long and low and controlled. “ I love you, Natalie. But I suggest you sort yourself out if you want to get married. And… ” he raises an eyebrow as he delivers the final blow. “ I think you should take the bus to work. ”
With this he storms out, leaving a trail of slammed doors behind him.
Oh Gad.
I have never argued with Olly, hell, I’ve never argued with anybody! It’s deeply unpleasant.
“ Aaaargh! ” I scream, a wave of sharp frustration overwhelming me. I grab one of Olly’s pristine white pillows and chuck it across the room. It bounces softly off the wardrobe and knocks over my handbag.
“ What the hell is happening? ” I cry to the ceiling.
And then I spot it. Scattered amongst the lipsticks, tissues and two pence coins that have all fallen out
“ I don't get it. Is this cold feet, Natalie? Are you trying to cause a row because you’re getting cold feet? Because I - ”
“ It’s not cold feet, ” I plead, my mouth moving, though I don’t ask it to. “ I promise. I don’t know what’s going on. I honestly didn’t realise what I was saying. Oh God. Please forget I said that stuff. Olly. I love you. ”
“ Sure, only you wish I was better in the sack? ”
Say. No.
Say NO, Natalie. Just one word, two letters. It’s easy. It's the easiest word ever. I mean, I've said no plenty of times before. Like when Auntie Jan asked if I minded picking her up some Imodium from the chemist – No! Or when the fellow who works at the cake shop asked if I wanted the small chocolate éclair rather than the large one – No! No!
I raise my tongue towards the roof of my mouth and form the word, while sending an angry message to my brain to please, for the love of God, please, please, please do what I say.
But my brain ignores me.
“ YES! ”
I put my head in my hands, and just to make the whole thing worse I bleat :
“ Maybe it’s a stamina thing. There are things we can do to fix it. ”
Shut UP, Natalie.
Olly stands from the bed and glares at me.
“ Stamina? ”
“ Yes. ”
“ Stamina? ”
“ Yes. ”
“ STAMINA? I have plenty of stamina, thank you very much. I’m the king of stamina. Just look at me. ” He gestures to his toned arms and stomach. “ I’m the very model of stamina. If there were a national contest for stamina I would come first. ”
We pause for a few seconds as the unfortunately worded end of that last sentence sinks in. Olly's face is now the colour of a plum. A vein pulsates in his forehead.
“ Jesus , Natalie, ” he croaks, running a hand through his hair. “ Any other little nuggets of information to share with me? You know. Just to top off your festival of cruelty. ”
My eyes well up. My heart jolts at the realisation that I will not be able to stop what next comes out of my mouth.
“ You have horrible taste in music. That perfume you get me for every birthday and Christmas makes me want to puke. I give it to the charity shop and tell you that I’ve used it all. When you drop me off for work I secretly go to a café and eat thick Hobbs toast full of butter. I don't like that you're so short. Can't we buy you some stacked heels? And… ”
Stop this. Stop this!
“ … your cooking is truly awful. It doesn’t even have a smell! ”
Olly gasps as if I’ve just sucker punched him, which let’s face it, I may as well have done.
I begin to cry. What the hell is happening? Have I got a brain tumour? Am I a latent schizophrenic? Oh God, poor Olly. He doesn’t deserve this! I am a horrible person.
I can only stare and blink as he angrily shoves on his suit, tying the tie extra tightly. He checks his hair in the mirror before turning to me.
“ I knew you were eating behind my back. I knew that. You must have been because you haven’t lost any weight for the wedding. ” He sighs long and low and controlled. “ I love you, Natalie. But I suggest you sort yourself out if you want to get married. And… ” he raises an eyebrow as he delivers the final blow. “ I think you should take the bus to work. ”
With this he storms out, leaving a trail of slammed doors behind him.
Oh Gad.
I have never argued with Olly, hell, I’ve never argued with anybody! It’s deeply unpleasant.
“ Aaaargh! ” I scream, a wave of sharp frustration overwhelming me. I grab one of Olly’s pristine white pillows and chuck it across the room. It bounces softly off the wardrobe and knocks over my handbag.
“ What the hell is happening? ” I cry to the ceiling.
And then I spot it. Scattered amongst the lipsticks, tissues and two pence coins that have all fallen out
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